


all you hear are car alarms

by corpsecon



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Comfort, Other, Panic Attacks, SBI family AU, Techno is a good brother, not beta'd we die like wilbur, vent - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:47:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29552325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corpsecon/pseuds/corpsecon
Summary: tommy has a panic attack. techno helps
Kudos: 58





	all you hear are car alarms

**Author's Note:**

> this is kinda a shitty vent fic haha sorry, also very brief mention of skin pulling (like the skin near your finger nails), so sorry if that's like something

the grass surrounding tommy's legs had been slowly ripped up to shreds, a small circle of dirt enclosing him. his fingers picked at the dirt beneath his nails, not even trying to clean them though, just doing it absentmindedly.

he stared ahead at a large tree, examining the bark as if he needed to remember every crack and dip of it, as if his life determined on it.

his breathing was heavy, it had been for a few minutes now, that felt like hours, days. he felt like he aged 10 years just sitting here, the tiny rocks in the ground digging into his knees. his feet ached from being pushed against the grass, flexing his ankles uncomfortably so he could sit on his knees.

he tried to remember the breathing exercises his brother had taught him when he was younger, breath in, count to 3, hold, count to 3, breath out, count to 3. but the seconds felt like minutes and he wasn't sure he could go even 3 seconds without gasping for air.

he felt like the whole world was trembling, breaking around him and collapsing in on itself. he could feel the magma of the core of the earth tickling the hairs on his legs, nipping at the existing scrapes and bruises littering the pale skin.

he shifted his eyes downwards a bit, looking at his hands, long fingers with bandages wrapped around them, short and bitten nails with the earth under them. he recognized the shaking that he couldn't stop, his fingers trying to distract themselves so they wouldn't feel numb. eventually the picking at the dirt turned to picking a the nail, then the skin, and despite knowing it wasn't a good idea he could barely register it to stop it.

he felt the thump of his heart, hear his own breathing, smell the tears trying to force through the threshold of his eyes, to wash over his freckled skin. but he knew if he cried, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from crying for hours, allowing himself to feel like everything was real. he didn't want to feel real.

if he cried, it would be real. if he let out even the smallest of sounds, he would be admitting he wasn't okay to the world, that he was just a child who needed help. he wasn't ready to admit what he already knew deep inside, how he didn't want to deal with everything he has been forced to.

he wanted to be a child, he wanted to spend time with his best friend, chase each other around with sticks and hit each other with pillows until they were too tired out to even laugh anymore. he wanted to cuddle with his brothers and father, wanted to be comforted and have his bruises kissed and tears wiped away with familiar hands, soft words reassuring him everything was okay. he wanted to be told everything was okay. he wanted it to be the truth.

he wanted to not have to care who heard him cry. he wanted to ask his father to help him with his maths homework, or have his brother teach him how to play an instrument.

he wanted normalcy, whatever normalcy was.

everything was too real, too much, too hard. 

tommy didn't want to be alone. he wanted his father. he wanted his big brothers. he wanted his best friend. he wanted to be held, hugged, talked to with gentle words.

he wasn't sure how long he had been sitting there, faintly recognizing that he had started digging his fingers into the dirt, picking out rocks and pressing them against his sore fingers to feel anything that wasn't the sting of his eyes.

he wasn't sure if it was real when he heard someone say his name. he wanted it to be real. he didn't want to be alone.

tommy took a few seconds to realize the sun had been blocked by a figure in front of him, shakily lifting his head to see his eldest brother standing in front of him, an unusual worry in his eyes.

techno's pink hair was unusually messy, eyebrows crinkled and mouth in a small frown.

"tommy... come here.." he recognized the soft tone, remembering how techno would often find him with a new bruise from an impromptu adventure, how he would pick him up with ease and bring him home, apologizing at the sting of the rubbing alcohol used to clean the wound and wrap it as gently as the piglin could.

he was raising his arms without a second thought, the familiar figure was enough to push the tears he had been holding back, letting out wave after wave of wet sobs come from him as techno allowed himself to be hugged, sighing gently.

the larger male picked up his little brother as gently as possible, mumbling comforting words, trying to reassure him he would be okay.

tommy wouldn't usually believe that sentence, but he did at techno telling him. 

techno, who was always the one who would wrap up his wounds, help with his homework, taught him how to fight. he could trust him.

he held on tightly to his neck, letting himself sob into his pink hair.

techno would protect him. 

they both knew that was real.


End file.
